


Not If, But When

by Roodles



Series: Not a Cellist [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Feels, Hurt Tony, M/M, Marriage, Oneshot, Phil Needs a Hug, Tony Needs a Hug, Trauma, established Tony/Phil, ironagent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roodles/pseuds/Roodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be rational to just give up. Pragmatic, logical. One, two, three months is too long. None of that matters, because Phil will never stop searching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not If, But When

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keroseneSteve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keroseneSteve/gifts).



> In the comments for What Happens In Vegas..., keroseneSteve mentioned the idea of Coulson's reaction to Afghanistan. The idea took root, and here we are! Another one shot, set in what I have dubbed the Not a Cellist!Verse. 
> 
> This could be read as a standalone without reading What Happens In Vegas, though this is certainly a prelude of sorts.
> 
> I don't have a beta, so all errors are mine. Obviously this is an AU, so don't get too upset. It'll be alright, I promise.

They had looked. Some of their best agents had been sent out to retrieve the target, because an engineer with a genius intellect and a penchant for weapons design was a liability they couldn't afford to leave in enemy hands. After a month, it became more and more likely that Tony Stark had died in the desert, and the world would both rejoice and mourn in the wake of his death.

S.H.I.E.L.D. pulled funding. Resources were funneled towards tracking gamma radiation and missions in the arctic. Assets were allocated and rearranged, ops were carried out, and the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division continued on as if Tony Stark had never been on their radar.

He never stopped looking. While normally unflappable, Phil Coulson had run himself ragged in his own way, searching for the man who had slotted himself into his heart, pieces locking into place with a whirring of servos. Searching for the man that filled his life with unexpected twists and turns, engineering binges, and last minute flights to Cambodia because Angkor Wat couldn't wait for Phil's next birthday. Searching for his _husband_.

Their wedding anniversary slipped by, and one month ran into another. It was heartening to know that Colonel Rhodes was still able to run reconnaissance, but doubly painful as Phil wouldn't be on the ground ~~if~~ when they recovered Tony.

Over the course of their marriage, they had been lucky enough to stay in the same time zone for more than a day at a time. When that happened, they fell into bed together and didn't emerge until days later, sated and serene. Those nights were the ones Phil cherished; soft murmurs in the darkness, fanciful plans that could never happen, and more serious discussions of What If? Phil had always thought that he would be the one to die in the line of duty. _Phil_ would be brought back in an unmarked casket to face Tony's grief. It hardly ever occurred to Phil to consider _What if it was Tony?_

Grief and determination buoyed Phil through the third month. He spread himself thin, sending Barton and Romanoff out on missions, acting Fury's quiet third (a less threatening version of Hill with an equally impressive skill set.) Nick knew who Tony was to Phil. He would never forget the day that the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. pulled him aside and asked if he'd been drugged, because he was doing some 'stupid ass shit'. Interpreting that as his boss's blessing, Phil had went on his honeymoon without a trace of guilt.

Reason and logic urged Phil to accept reality. He could see it in Fury's expression, could hear it in Pepper's phone calls. She held onto hope as tightly as he did, but plans had been made if...If. Really, it was all a matter of acceptance. Pragmatism was practically on his resume. He had given presentations on the matter to trainees. He was well known for his judgment calls, and knowing when to give up and pull back.

Pragmatism was thrown out the window when it came to Tony Stark.

 

* * *

 

When the call came at three o'clock in the morning, Phil answered without hesitation. Fury was known for calling at ungodly hours, but it could usually wait until six. Body thrumming with anticipation, he accepted the call.

"Coulson."

"They found your boy. Wheels up in an hour."

"Thank you, Sir," Phil replied briskly, ending the call.

Always having a spare suit had its advantages; he was ready in ten minutes and down in the hangar with another forty minutes to spare. Whether an exception had been made, or flight plans disregarded altogether, Phil was in the air ahead of schedule.

He spent the next eight or so hours studying the sitrep. Colonel Rhodes' search party had registered a heat spike in the Afghan mountains, footage reporting a bright fireball blossoming above what would later be identified as an encampment. Tony had been found over a mile away, a bloody and bruised figure trudging through the sand. Blurry pictures from the op included a glowing object on Tony's chest, though it wasn't mentioned in the report.

When the plane landed in Germany, Phil had little patience for jet lag, pushing through until he was striding into the military hospital. A flash of his badge got him through clearance checkpoints, nerves alight with anticipation as he stalked through the hallways. Tony was _close_ , and the thought caused a curl of anxious worry and excitement to spread from his chest and rest in his stomach. He could feel his habitual mask of calm slipping, only serving to quicken his pace.

Clinging to his last vestiges of level headed patience, Phil continued until he came upon Colonel Rhodes standing guard outside of Tony's door. The airman looked up, eyes widening in recognition. They had never met, though Phil was aware that Tony had gushed over conference calls about his 'super secret spy husband'. Whether Rhodes had believed it or not was up for debate.

"You're Coulson."

"You're Colonel Rhodes," Phil replied, cursing the breathy notes in his voice.

"You look awfully calm for a man whose husband was just recovered from a terrorist kidnapping," Rhodes stated in a level tone, though the undercurrents screamed accusations.

"I'm far from calm, Colonel Rhodes."  The crack in his voice was indicative of that.

As if those were the magic words, Rhodes nodded and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Go in and see our boy. He's refused any pain medication, but he's cleaned up and lucid."

"Good to know. Thank you, Colonel."

Rhodes' hand tightening on his shoulder kept him immobile, though a takedown wouldn't have been difficult despite the difference in their builds. Focusing back on the other man, Phil listened as Rhodes lowered his voice.

"He asked for you first. This shovel talk is two years too late, but make sure you take care of him."

"Is that a threat?" Phil asked mildly, though his nerves were fraying. He just wanted to see his husband.

"Just a promise. Take care of him, Coulson."

Another nod had Phil out of Rhodes' grasp and stepping into the hospital room. A quick snick of the deadbolt had the door locked and the blinds were dropped shortly after. Turning, Phil saw Tony immersed in his phone, most likely communicating with JARVIS while checking on Stark Industries. One arm was strapped into a sling, the other covered in patchwork bandages. Smaller lacerations littered his face, neck, and arms, with another bandage taped high on his forehead. His beard and hair were both longer than Phil had ever witnessed; he could barely restrain the urge to run his fingers through it and revel in the length.

"Locking the door won't make me eat, Rhodey," Tony replied distractedly.

"It's a good thing I'm a lot more persuasive," Phil replied.

Tony had probably risked whiplash with how quickly his head snapped up, brown eyes wide and mouth agape.

" _Phil_ ,” he whispered, and Phil could almost see the carefully cultivated walls of nonchalance come crashing down.

Words no longer necessary, Phil strode over the bed, leaning down to capture his husband's mouth in a searing kiss. Someone whined, he'd never be able to tell who, and then Phil was dragged onto the bed without breaking the kiss. Straddling his husband with care, he angled his head then slipped his tongue past Tony's lips, licking his mouth while relishing Tony's whimpers. Tony returned the kiss with desperate fervor, hands scrabbling across Phil's back.

Deciding they could both use some air, Phil pulled back. With one armed braced above Tony's pillow, Phil pressed his forehead against his husband's, breaths ragged. His free hand made its way to the mess of black hair, stroking and petting while their breathing evened out.

"That was pretty hot," Tony managed.

"You still have bad timing," Phil murmured, pressing his lips to Tony's cheek.

"I guess you missed me?"

"Desperately."

"Good. I missed you too."

Phil was surprised at the rumbling noise that emanated from his chest as he kissed Tony again. He idly wondered what had happened to the sling as the other man ran both hands up and down his front, knuckles brushing over his groin. Lust hadn't even crossed Phil's mind during their encounter, but the more he thought about it, the more he _wanted_. When he had let himself, he had spent his nights imagining Tony under him, on top of him, inside of him. He wanted it all and more, and it had hurt to even consider never seeing his husband again.

Mentally shaking himself, Phil pulled away. Now was not a moment to let his libido run rampant. There would be time for that later.  He went to swing his leg over so he could slide off the bed, but a strong grip on his jacket gave him pause. Tony stared up at him, his mouth tight and his free hand flexing. Something had happened in that desert, and it made Phil's heart hurt. He knew what could change a man. He knew that something or someone had changed Tony.

"Don't. Go, that is. Don't...just don't leave," Tony whispered.

"I can't keep straddling you," Phil pointed out, then allowed himself to be rearranged so that he was curled around Tony, legs intertwined. Facing each other on the pillow, they pressed closer until their foreheads bumped. Phil hadn't allowed himself to think past this moment. Now that he was living it, he reveled in the fact that Tony was alive, safe, and in his arms.

"I'm not going anywhere." _I'll never leave you, if I can help it_.

"Good. Rhodey doesn't cuddle." _I need you._

The weight of the last three months came crashing down upon him, and all he wanted to do was sleep. But the urge to stand guard over Tony kept him awake, up until a calloused hand caressed his cheek.

"Sleep. Stay."

"Not going anywhere," Phil repeated.

Tony pressed something, and the lights turned off. A diffused blue light emanated from Tony's chest, but Phil put his curiosity in a strangle hold and shoved it away for the time being. Later.

"Love you," Tony whispered into the darkness, shifting closer.

"I love you too," Phil murmured, slinging an arm over his husband and sending up silent thanks for the answer to his prayers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos welcome!


End file.
